The Blacksmith's Daughter
by unicornshoes
Summary: It's hard to describe the feeling of a friendship being haulted.[Infinite Hiatus, my apologies]
1. Prologue

**The Black Smith's Daughter **

Disclaimer: I own nothing pirates, except for Anna.

**(Revised) (The first chapter is much better then the prologue; I'd suggest if your skeptical after reading this to give the the first chapter a try)**

Authors Note: This is my first Pirates fan fiction. This idea came to me while I was thinking about the whole 'Elizabeth Swann sister thing' fan fiction idea. Please read and review; that'd make me so happy and motivated to type faster. I wrote this at midnight last night so if it's crap; sorry. I already have chapter one on paper and it should be up shortly! Continue . . .

**Prologue**

Her features mirrored her mothers, that's what her father had told her every day since she could remember. Her rather dirty, plain brown hair, green eyes with specks of a brass like color, and tanned, rather pinkish skin, scattered with freckles varying in their places, such as the one on her left ankle and behind her right knee and a few dots across her forehead. Her nose was a bit pudgy like her father's and her lips always seemed to be chapped, in a rather annoying manner. Annabelle Lynn Brown, or Anna for short, could even remember a time when her father, all greasy and sweaty, would come in for dinner and refuse to eat before he could get "as clean as the governor." Then, following supper they would lay on the itchy, yellow rug by the fire, and he would tell Anna stories that told of princesses, princes, and pirates. They would often fall asleep before the short story could meet it's happy ending; Anna asked too many questions. Everything was as perfect as a blacksmith's family could be.

When Anna was eleven years old, her mother past away, after many years of being sick. Anna's whole world crashed around her and she nor her father new how to deal with the situation placed upon them. Anna cried a lot, and her father spent most of the sunlight and night in the shop. She and her father didn't talk much anymore and he had run out of stories to tell or maybe the wake of his wife's death caused him to forget. Forgetfulness; she even often wondered if her father forgot he had a daughter.

Anna turned twelve and her father took in an apprentice, a young boy with brown wavy hair and chocolate eyes. The boy, named William Turner, kept to himself the first year or two, learning the craft of sword making by himself; Mr. Brown was rarely sober and awake at the same time anymore. Anna would give the boy shy smiles when she saw him and he would do the same.

Anna and Will, as he was called, talked a lot when they became older, when they around the age of sixteen or so. They soon became friends, understanding their lives had a lot in common. They could solace with each other, both knowing how it felt to know your mother wasn't ever coming home.

That's how Annabelle Lynn Brown lived; doing chores, talking with Will, daydreaming and helping Mrs. Jones down at the dress shop for a small income.

Daydreaming; it was what Anna loved to do. She was a dreamer, and Will laughed at her for it, picking fun at how her eyes glazed over when she did her chores, and what not. Her daydreams were her own, an escape from the soot, and flour filled life she lived and she couldn't ask for more.

Maybe everything happens for a reason, maybe Annabelle Brown was supposed be at the wrong place at the wrong time, and possibly the actions that her mother did before she was even conceived were meant to happen. Maybe curses and bad luck spells of time do exsit. Perhaps everyone's life is connected in one way or another, and everything comes full circle, in the long run.

_Fin Prologue_


	2. Sweet Dreams, Silly Dreamer

**The Blacksmith's Daughter**

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Anna...

**(Revised: Okay so I really liked the concept of the beggining of this chapter, i'm not changing that, but the WillOOC and whole 'abusive suitor' had to go, i'm trying to make this true to it's time, which is hard when, like I said before, I came from Degrassi fics aka modern teenager, angsty fics. I hope to have revised chapter two and the new chapter three up by Sunday morning, late tonight. xoxo emmalee, thanks for hanging in there fans, 7-22-06)**

**Chapter One (Sweet Dreams, Silly Dreamer)**

She always tended to avoid the blacksmith shop, usually staying just in the living quarters. Seeing her father past out on the floor made her sick. But, today she had a few minutes to spare between chores and her shift at the dress shop. Upon entering the shop, the smell of sweat and metal reached her nose and as she guessed it, her father was slumped in the corner, a bottle of rum, still half filled, balanced on his chest. His snores were loud and annoying but just a small price to pay. She climbed the ladder up to the loft and walked to the window, or what was left of the window. Her father said the sunlight gave him headaches and Anna was close to telling him his hangovers and excessive drinking brought on the headaches. She didn't though. So, the window was covered with crooked, splintering boards of wood. Anna wondered if the boards were crooked because her father had a heart and knew she liked gazing out the window, even through a gap or if it was just because he was drunk when he nailed the window shut. She believed it was the latter of the two.

Anna dusted herself off and carefully walked over to the window, longing to watch the ships porting in full view, but even so, Port Royal was just as amazing looking threw a gap between boards. She crouched down next to the window, bringing her knees to her chest, she never took the ladylike manners her mother had taught her to heart. She squinted her gleaming eyes to see more clearly through the crack. Even though the ocean and docks were far away she could still view the tiny little ships coming and going, to and from the port. Anna allowed a smile to cross her lips, longing to be on a voyage, to somewhere far, far away. She was lost in the crystal clear water, nearly drowning in a neck deep daydream and that was her favorite place of all to be.

Will entered the shop feeling all giddy inside, a goofy smile configured on his beautiful face. He seemed, and glowed, happiness and the description of being ecstatic was possibly an understatement. It was only after the buzz of happiness and the thoughts in his head quieted down to a soft purr that he heard the humming. Will figured Mr. Brown was humming in his sleep until he glanced up and saw her figure crouching by the old window in the loft. He then walked over to the ladder and climbed it in a quick way and situated himself across from Anna. He looked at her with questioning eyes, noticing her pale yellow dress embroidered with lace was too big, nearly swallowing her, and slipping off her shoulders in a casual fashion. She noticed his presence by giving him a quick glance and looking back out, threw the crack.

"Anna, if you'd like, I could take those boards down, for you." Will offered, running a hand along one of the boards. She shook her head and laughed. "My father would have new boards up the next sober moment he had a chance at." Anna continued to laugh, laughter was good and even better when William Turner laughed as well. "Maybe so . . . " Will let the sentence linger as their laughter subsided. "But, even so, for a whole half a day you would have a _perfect_ view of Port Royal." She sighed.

"It's just a view and whether I see it threw a crack or a grand bay window, it will simply be a view, if you could find a way to have me be on one of those little ships-" She pointed at the window, through the gap, "You'd be my hero and I might just have to kiss you."

She was joking, but all the same Will's face turned an awfully cute shade of red, making Anna giggle, petite, soft giggles, that sounded morelike hiccups. As the heat fell from his cheeks, he chuckled softly, bringing his hand up to rustle her loose hair, in a brotherly fashion.

In fact, Anna and Will were much like brother and sister. Will was protective of Anna, ina fraternal way that big brothers are. They teased each; Will teasing Anna for the way she daydreamed and Anna in return picking fun at how Will fancied Miss. Swann. They had heart to hearts, talking about anything under the Caribbean sun, from what their mothers were like to Anna telling him some stories her father had told herself as a young girl. On occasion, they fought. One time they fenced with each other, to settle a heated argument, it wasn't very pretty though, Anna lost, miserably. Her father never liked the idea of a woman and a sword, so she was never taught how to fight. Will was very apologetic at that though, claiming he thought she would at least know _some fencing_, being the blacksmith's daughter, and all. She didn't speak to him for a week.

"I have something for you . . . "

Anna looked up furrowing her eyebrows together. She studied Will, and his facial features that were twisted into a happy, toothy grin. She brought a slender finger up her chin, slightly tugging on her lower lip. Before she could speak, he pulled out a small, tattered, leather bound book from inside of his vest. Will handed the rather short book carefully to Anna, whom took it with shaky hands. She carefully thumbed the pages, her eyes growing wide, staring at the blank pieces of parchments that were bounded tightly together.

"Will, this must have set you back some, I can't accept this!"

She said, shaking her head and extending her arm to give the little book back.

"Not by much, Anna. I made it myself, I simply bound some parchment together with a piece of hide from an old vest that grew too small on me. I can by you a quill and ink, after I get paid."

Will shrugged his shoulders and Anna looked unconvinced, bitting her bottom lip, which didn't fare too well with her chapped lips. She thumbed through the pages, her eyes now casting a glimpse of excitement.

"Thank you, Will!" Anna wrapped her arms loosely around his neck and he smiled, over her shoulders.

"I knew you'd like it!" Will beamed, stroking his chin with his fingers a few times, studying his ingenious thinking out of the corner of his eye.

Anna ran her index finger over the leather covering. Her eyebrows were arched in amazement. She wondered what she could do with all the blank pages, and if she wrote small enough the paper would never seem to end, Anna noted.

Suddenly, her eyes became at an overcast and her face turned pink. Will looked at her confused, and he wasn't expecting her to be unhappy.

"Why the long face, Anna?" He watched her thumb the pages once more, this time more briskly. Her chin was against her chest and her brown hair was falling carelessly into her face. He lowered his head, trying to see into her eyes.

"Will, it's wonderful, really, but I shan't have anything to write . . . "

Will heaved a sigh, taking his thumb and pointer finger and lifting Anna's chin up so she was looking at him. He then took his free hand and brushed her the hair that fell into her face off to the side, and Anna couldn't help but have her heart speed up as his hand grazed her cheek for those short, few seconds.

"You're the biggest dreamer that Port Royal has ever seen, I imagine you'll write something absolutely brilliant in no time. Okay? Now, I have to start making that sword for soon to be Commodore Norrington." Will sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck.

Anna nodded her head, a knowing smile curving at her lips, and her cheeks blushed at the thought of how pathetic she must have sounded, seconds ago. Will stood, up and patted Anna on the shoulder before climbing down the ladder.

"A sword for the Commodore? Would that be as to why you were so happy when you walked in?"

Will glanced up at her, and nodded. "Yes, and well, I talked to Miss. Swann today . . . "

Anna crawled to the edge of the loft, dangling her head over to see Will's face and as she had guessed, he was grinning, looking unsure, and running a hand across the top of his head. She smiled back, a teasing line tugging to be audible and leave her lips, but she resisted the urge to beleaguer him like he had done to her over the years whenever she liked a boy.

She knew that even though he didn't admit it out loud, but he was a dreamer too.

-

"Tut, tut, tut . . . "

Mrs. Jones was leaning over Anna's shoulder as she worked on stitching ivory colored lace to the collar of a dress. Anna had left for work shortly after Will began to make the sword for Norrington. Anna felt her stomach growl, and Mrs. Jones gave her a disapproving look. Usually Anna ate lunch during the fifteen minutes or so time between her chores and her shift at the dress shop. She had forgotten to due so and now she'd have to wait until she got home, which wasn't going to be until at least dusk. Running her hands over the lace she had sewn on, she smiled.

"You are very slow, girl. Why I hire you, I don't know."

Mrs. Jones was a stick thin woman and had greying hair that had been twisted into a bun a top her narrow head. She waved a bony finger at Anna before turning, looking out the shop window, scavenging for customers.

"You hired me because I'm the only woman that doesn't work for her father."

"Right, right, right . . . Ooh customers . . . Annabelle do something with your hair!"

Mrs. Jones sashayed excitedly to Anna, and hustled to pull Anna's hair into a low braid, tying it with yellow ribbon that was laying on the table. Anna smiled politely, beckoning Mrs. Jones to the door.

Anna patted her head and went back to sewing the lace onto the collar of the dress. Looking up, threw her eyelashes she saw a man talking with Mrs. Jones. The old woman never looked happier, ushering the man around showing him all the fabrics and pre-made dresses, a giddy grin on her wrinkling face, and Anna laughed in spite of Mrs. Jones many personalities. Moody, curtly, nice and somewhere beyond nice to a creepy-nice.

The day was long and boring, and Anna sewed so much she thought her fingers were going to fall off if she had to embroider another flower or bird or what have you. All her thoughts had been on the leather bound empty book Will had given her. All afternoon she casually found her mind drifting off to what would be the first thing she'd write. Anna couldn't write much, and was a horrible speller at that and she wondered if Will would help her with her spelling, he was quite good, considering he was went to school in England and had some formal teaching. Anna's schooling was informal and only enough to keep her live and well.

"Girly, I don't have money to pay you for this week . . . "

Anna's heart sank, but she needed the money. Her family, she, her father and Will had been living off small rations of bread and cheese for the past few weeks and she knew she had lost a significant amount weight, her dresses that had formally been her mother's were even bigger then normal and she was always adjusting the dresses on her shoulders. Anna sighed and didn't say anything while she left the shop.

The smithy was only a few shops away and the air was briskly cooler at dusk, so she took her time walking. The smell of salt and fish was in the air of the port town, as darkness began to swallow the ocean, soon beginning to take the land. Anna picked up her pace, remembering the packet of parchment that sat waiting for her.

Anna took in one last breath of fresh air, and hurriedly entered the shop.

_Smack_

Anna groaned, as she stumbled to stand up, and to regain her balance. She looked to see whom she ran into and saw Will rubbing his forehead. Giggling, Anna held out her hand to help him up and he accepted. Once he was standing, they both dusted themselves off, and Anna was still laughing a bit.

"Why were you in such hurry to leave, Will?" She asked, just out of curiosity, probably_ really _not wanting to know why Will, a strapping young man, was leaving at night.

He shrugged his shoulders, and spoke, while looking at the ground, "I thought you could use an escort or something . . . " He looked up and eyed her disheveled appearance. Her eyes looked tired, her hair was coming out of its braid, strewing over her face and her dress was lopsided on her shoulders.

Opening her mouth to protest that she was a grown woman and did not need be escorted around, he silenced her by putting his index finger over her lips to hush her.

"Hmpf."

Will raised his eyebrows and pulled his finger away from her dull pink lips, "Don't get me started on your welfare at night with roaming drunk men everywhere, we've had this discussion before, I do believe."

He beckoned her in and she followed suit, walking past him and sitting at the wooden table, near the middle of the shop. She rested her elbows on the table, her hands cupping her face staring at the little book in front of her. Anna looked up at Will, who had sat himself across from her, eyeing him with not much interest.

"You shouldn't care about my welfare, Will. You're not responsible for me."

Will groaned and rolled his eyes obviously agitated. Hetook a sipfrom a glass that was filled with water, Anna assumed and handed her a ration of bread and a small chunk of cheese that had been sitting on the table.

"Thank you." Anna murmured, backing down from the fight that was starting to come to a boil.

" I care about _you _Anna. It's something I can't help it. You're like my little sister or something."

The last few words made her want to cringe. _Little sister._ She didn't want to be Will's 'little sister'. Anna wanted him to say that it was because they were such good friends, or since they knew each other for almost half their lives, but _little sister_. She smiled in spite of herself and Will smiled back, glad that she understood where he was coming from.

" Well, 'night Anna."

Anna nodded her head, and bit into the rather stale bread. Will walked over to where he slept, on a cot, located on the far wall of the smithy. Mr. Brown was probably doing his runs at the three local taverns because he was no where in sight. Anna shifted in her seat feeling guilty for yelling at Will for him being protective. At least someone cared for her, she thought.

Getting up from her seat on the stool, Anna blew out the candle that lit up the side of the room she was situated in and then she softly tip toed across the room, where it was dark and the moon only slightly shining through the cracks of the old window. She kneeled down next to his bed, hearing his soft breathing. She ran a hand threw his hair, and softly spoke,

"Thanks for caring, Will"

He brought his hand up to her cheek and rubbed it with his calloused thumb.

"Anytime, _Annabelle_, anytime"

Will yawned and Anna rested her head on his pillow, in the way a little sister does.

Fin

Chapter One, read and review, if you will


	3. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer: I only own my OC(s)**

**(A/N: Long time coming. Read and review. Sorry for any spelling mistakes, I think I got them all, but you can never be too sure.)

* * *

**

**The Blacksmith's Daughter**

**Chapter Two**

_How the carribbean sun can kiss,_

_and yet still miss_

_her heart._

"You spelled 'Caribbean' wrong, Anna."

Will commented, reading over her shoulder as he bit into a red, crunchy apple, juice spilling down his chin. He wiped it off on the bell of his sleeve and Anna let out an exasperated sigh. Twirling the quill in a circular fashion around her fingers, she turned to face him, a bothered tone drawn out on her face.

"Well, just how might you spell it then, Will?" Anna asked squinting her eyes at him with a mock quizzical look. In just over the past fifteen minutes Anna had begun to write in her notebook, Will, who was being nosey and reading over her shoulder, had spotted at least ten spelling, and grammar mistakes.

Laughing, he shook his head no, "I'm not telling you how to spell it; it's an easy word anyways."

She playfully glared at him, lightly smacking him atop the head with the palm of her hand. "Will Turner, you are such a bloody pain!"

Anna turned her back to him, and focused on the table in front of her. It was the workshop table, littered with various iron tools and the sword Will was to deliver to the governor for Commodore Norrington in a few minutes. Directly in front of her was the notebook Will had given her the previous week. All morning she had been jotting down random thoughts as she finished up her chores and what not.

'_Maybe someday he'll love me'_

_she thought hopfully._

" _Hopfully _? You mean _hopefully_?" Will chuckled loudly, his face turning red with emotion. Anna raised her eyebrows, and stood up to face him, she herself trying to sustain from giggling, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Aren't you leaving about now?" She asked gesturing to the casing the sword was in on the table. It was the finest leather, the most expensive in town.

He batted his hands against his chest , mock hurt and his mouth ajar into the perfect 'o'. Anna blinked back laughter trying to look stern.

"Annabelle, dear, are you_ shooing_ me away?" His voice was light and airy and both Anna and Will couldn't suppress their laughter anymore. They laughed and laughed not quite sure what they were laughing about.

Anna hugged Will around the waist as their laughter settled, breathing onto his neck,

"Thanks for being a friend, Will." He hugged her back with just the same, if not more, amount of strength, placing his head in the crook of her neck.

"No problem, Annabelle."

It seemed that these little tender moments had been becoming more frequent in the past weeks. The realization that Anna was soon to be married off to Mister Henry Smith, a trader who was along the lines of thirty years old, no matter what, was setting in. And already Henry had made it clear that once they were married, Annabelle would have no need for Will in her life. It was harsh and Anna remembered crying herself to sleep that night..

Whenever given the chance, Anna would find some way to touch Will, in a loving way. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, squeezing his hand, giving him small hugs here and there. For the most part Anna was going to miss Will a lot. She can't really remember being happy without Will. Of course fuzzy memories of her young childhood, but they were unclear and better then what really happened.

They pulled away from each other, Anna closing her notebook and replacing the cap on the ink bottle, careful not to spill anything. Will watched her do all this with a knowing half smile lurking across his lips. And he just couldn't bring himself to think about when Anna wasn't going to be there, in the shop, with him.

For so long it seemed as if time was on there side, with long nights of talking and days filled with bickering all in good humor, and now, for the first time, it was truly intangible.

Will was in love with Elizabeth and everything about her. He loved the way she smiled, and when she'd talk out of the side of her mouth when she said a snide comment. Seemingly, Elizabeth was the human jewel of the Caribbean and all the men in Port Royal wouldn't mind taking Elizabeth in as their wife. Elizabeth was perfect, most people thought, except for Anna.

Annabelle had always shined the idea in Will's eyes that Miss. Swann had to have some imperfection that the world didn't know about or bother to take a gander at what it was. But Anna did. Her guesses ranged from the wild and impossible (half male, sixteen toes, strumpet) to silly (obsession with eggs, wears a wig, drinks human blood) and then came the plausible ones ( conceited, spoiled rotten, lonely).

To Will, Elizabeth was perfect: no ifs ands nor buts.

So, as Elizabeth ran her hand daintily down the rail as she stepped down into the foyer, Will was star stuck, mouth gaping. The shrill of Annabelle laughing at him echoing through his mind long enough for his lips to shut into a soft, shy smile. Empathetically, Will watches Elizabeth reach the landing, Governor Swann raving on about her beauty.

"Will! It's so good to see you!" Her heart shaped lips form the words perfectly, making his name seem to sing as it falls to the ground, shattering and melting his heart all at the same time. Those soft hands of hers rub anxiously against a rustic gold chain that, while unnoticeable, was clearly out of place against her fair skin and stiff, new dress.

"I dreamt about you last night." Elizabeth continued, and Will felt a blush crawling up his neck and he spoke, perhaps too fast and surprised sounding.

"Really?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, his palms warm and sweaty and had a fleeting thought of what he might look like, standing there, poised waiting for Elizabeth to continue, sweating bullets.

"Elizabeth, this is hardly appropriate-" Governor Swann tried to interject, but was honorably ignored by his daughter, who continued on with the telling of her dream.

"About the day we met. Do you remember?"

It was a question that didn't need to be answered, of course he remembered. Not necessarily because it was the day he met Miss. Swann but because of what had happened that day. The explosions, the fear, the coldness of the ocean kissing and hugging his skin, holding him for what seemed like forever

"I could never forget it, Miss. Swann." His voice wavered a bit, but he erased it was smile. She smiled back and shook her head, raising her eyebrows towards Will.

"Will, how many times must I ask you to call me 'Elizabeth'?"

She batted her eyelashes and cocked her head to the side and Will swallowed a breath of air, hard.

Elizabeth, who was so beautiful and perfect, so close to his own heart beat and yet miles away and he had no clue what words to string together in reply. She expected him to fault and let his guard down, give into her advances but he didn't.

"At least once more, Miss Swann. As always."

Elizabeth shifted her eyes to some spot above Will's shoulder, bitting her lip and nodding her head. And Will was so close to pouring his heart out to Elizabeth, but he shoved it all inside of him, forming a knot in his stomach.

Governor Swann says something, but Will doesn't hear it. All he notices is how straight Elizabeth is standing and the curtly, hurt look on her usually gentle face. He want's to tell her that he's dirt, not worth her time, and that she deserves better, but the words are just a jumble in his mind.

"Good day, Will." She said, picking up her skirts and walking out the door stepping into a carriage that only people like him and Anna saw in their dreams.

"Good day..."

Slowly, he whispered off his tongue the name he only said in the confident of his mind or Annabelle:

"Elizabeth..."

And even the bravest men swoon and die when love comes kissing, tauntingly.

"Thread, thread. Annabelle, where's my thread, ordered from London?" Mrs. Jones was prancing around the shop, mussing the racks of fabrics and haphazardly opening various cupboards and drawers.

Anna shrugged her shoulders, replacing the needle in she was holding back into the pin cushion and scuffing her feet over to where Mrs. Jones was hunched over, her head in a small cupboard, standing on her tippy toes.

"Mrs. Jones, do you want me to help..." Anna's offer for help was cut off when Mrs. Jones quickly regained her posture and slammed the cupboard door shut. Her grey hair was matted to her forehead with sticky, sweat and her face was flushed.

"The docks; the ship from London is here this afternoon John!!!!John!"

Sitting down in her chair, Anna saw a young man with long dirty, charcoal brown hair walking down the staircase and into the shop. He was a meaty man, not fat, but wide and broad. In fact he was kind of scary looking, and definitely fearsome. Anna had seen him on previous occasions but was still a bit jumpy and wide eye upon seeing him talking with his mother, this afternoon.

"Annabelle, John will give you money for my thread, you go down to the docks and pick it up. Okay?!? Go!"

She lamely held her handout accepting the gold coins against her skin like a child welcomes honey and sugar. "Just thread?"

Mrs. Jones rolled her eyes and groaned. Her number of years on earth, just over fifty, had made Mrs. Jones plenty irritable, and short tempered. "Yes, now shoo. John will watch for customers while I sew. Bye for now."

"Yes, goodbye."

Relieved and thankful, Anna walked down the dirt road, toward the docks breathing in the sunshine. With a brisk walk, the docks weren't more the ten minutes away. Her energy level jumping out of her skin, Anna began to run down the curves of the hill. Her bonnet flapped around her neck and her hair became loose, itching her cheeks. She was a bit nervous about seeing him again today. After all he had left more then two weeks ago and Anna did miss him. It's just that she hasn't had much experience with love or boys, men.

In that sense, she was still a little girl. She had only kissed a boy once before, when she was fifteen. But it didn't count because it was sloppy and inexperienced. Anna was timid and shy when it came to the opposite sex, and she couldn't help but act a bit immature when she was with Henry.

Slowing her pace down, she reached the bright blue of the ocean and of the port. Mrs. Jones was a forgetful, scatterbrain that made working with her a sort of nuisance. The sun right above head, it had to be, at most, half past noon. The traders didn't set up in the market till two in the afternoon on most days, but Anna didn't think it would be problem to pick Mrs. Jones' thread early.

Anna swayed a bit as she stepped onto the dock, walking toward a man in navy colored breeches and dirty white shirt. His blonde hair was sweaty and matted back into a ponytail, his back toward Anna. She fidgeted with her bonnet and wiped the sweat off her forehead delicately with her fingers.

"Good afternoon, sir."

The man turned towards her and smiled, eyeing her up and down, respectively. He had a crooked nose and thin lips, and stood with his hands crossed over his chest.

" My, my. Miss. Annabelle Brown here to pick up Mrs. Jones thread, I presume?"

Anna returned the smile, "Yes, I am." She held out her palm, the coins sparkling against her skin.

"My favorite thing: a pretty girl with money." He smirked at her and Anna turned a light shade of pink. Discreetly, his hand brushed her side and blush turned darker.

"Henry, I shall need to be returning to the shop soon."

Henry Smith sighed, removing his hand and letting her drop the coins into it. He turned around and dug threw a wooden crate before facing her again, a small burlap sack in swinging from his fingers,

"Six spools of thread. Gold, magenta, ruby red, purple, dark green, and pearl white." With each mentioned he moved closer to her face, brushing his lips against hers.

"This isn't the time or place, Henry."

"By God, I missed you so much. Spin around, let me take your beauty in."

Reluctantly, she set the pouch of thread down, and spun around in a circle. She giggled airly, as he pulled her into a tight hug.

"I've got more work to do lass, but shall we have dinner tonight?" He quirked his eyebrows up and rubbed her shoulders.

"I'd fancy that."

Softly he kissed her forehead, and waved goodbye. She watched his retreating form go below deck on his boat and Anna smiled. Feeling that maybe everything would be okay, when the time came to marry Henry Smith.

Anna turned around reaching for her the pouch filled with imported thread, but didn't see it. Her eyes traveled from the right and back to the left, but the brown bag was no where to be found. Cursing under her breath, she saw a ragged looking man with wild hair swinging the pouch in a circle in the air. Angry, Annabelle ran towards, him yanking back on his shoulder.

He frowned at her, before a smile crawled on his face as he took in her closeness. He looked up towards the sky.

" God, how many times do I 'ave to tell you to stop all these fawning lasses from following me?"

Anna pulled back and slapped the man across the cheek, "That was fast.." He mumbled under his breath, rubbing his sore face.

"Give me back my thread." Anna demanded, her eyes glowering.

"Thread, eh? I have no 'thread' of yers." He scratched at his mussed hair, the kohl under his eyes glimmering with sweat.

"That bag, in you hand had my thread in it."

Anna placed her hands on her hips. The leerily opened the bag and cursed under his breath, handing it to her.

"What 'tis your name, sir?"

He stroked his chin with his fingers, "Why do ye need to know?"

"Well, I shall have to alert the authorities of this."

He pressed a dirty finger up against her lips and moved his face close to hers, his voice low and husky. Her heart was beating fast and her own ignorance hit her back like a brick.

"Love, are afraid of pirates?"

Anna didn't move, holding her breath as he spoke into her ear.

"This isn't the last time you'll hear of Captain Jack Sparrow."

He softly kissed her cheek and walked away, leaving her stunned and confused.

" Sparrow..." she mumbled under her breath.

_Captain Jack Sparrow_


End file.
